


I Have No Ink To Spill Into Water

by Corundum_Creations



Category: my hero - Fandom, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Blood and Injury, Body Dysphoria, Body Image, Body Modification, Disasters, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Manipulation, Minor Injuries, Original Character(s), Past Abuse, Plot? We're figuring that out as we go, Quirks, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tags Subject to Change, Violence, Wings, no beta we die like people, quirk marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29408697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corundum_Creations/pseuds/Corundum_Creations
Summary: Due to a quirk mishap, the people in the city around the prestigious UA Hero Academy find themselves having soulmates identified by colorful marks like ink in water on the skin that first touches one another. A hand shake. A thumb to wipe away tears. An accidental brush of shoulders.Hero Talon, second in the Top Ten, knows well the fickleness of quirks, and the expedience and determination of the Commission when it comes to things they cannot control and want to control.
Kudos: 1





	1. Talon

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not in any form or fashion own BNHA/MHA! This is merely a fan work.

_Fwoosh_

“Gahh!” Talon “kissed” the villain after taking them by surprise and let the body fall as the toxins in her saliva quickly took hold. The Number Two hero stood above the very last villain in the hostage situation.

Police immediately descended upon the temporarily immobile villain as paparazzi descended upon her.

The flashes and jumbled multitude of voices were so a part of her life that she merely smiled and made pleasantries. Without paying real attention to the questions that were actually bombarding her, she answered.

“Sorry I’m late to the party, I was in the middle of that press conference all the way in Kagoshima! But I’m glad my fellow heroes were able to handle it.”

She knew well what they wanted.

“Talon, Talon! But the ring leader almost got away!”

She brushed it off easily with a smile, “oh, I just made a scene, he would have been captured whether I was here or not.”

An uproar of more needless questions with a sprinkle of loudly spoken praise rose to a crescendo. The microphones and spitting mouths crowded her.

Her smile stayed radiant as she patiently, despite all that she just had to do, went through the process of dealing with the press and civilians who were there for the show. The hostages were already being helped by other pros and first responders. The police were finishing hauling away the perpetrators.

Eventually, the crowd settled down and she was able to take her leave.

The Commission owned apartment they gave her was clean and spotless but oh so empty. No one was there to great her; no one to offer her a genuine loving smile.

Even as the Number 2 Hero and the fastest, such exertion was still foreign to her and as the adrenalin died down, the ache settled in.

It was pointless to try and do anything else with such a late hour.

She picked out a drink from the fridge, piercing the top with a talon, and swiftly downed it. The taste was bitter, more than any horribly massacred tea beyond repair, but good or healthy doesn’t always correlate with pleasant or tasty. That was a lesson carved into her bones.

She discarded the empty canister into the bin designated to be returned to the Commission’s campus, recycled into new canisters and refilled.

An endless cycle.

Another cycle is one made up of her going out to risk her life, pleasing the people, obeying, duty, duty, duty, coming home to an apartment that never, ever smells like it’s a home, and steeling blissful sleep before the new day or some serious midnight matter required her attention.

The heated surface of the blanket-less bed clicked on with a tap of a toe. She crawled onto the elevated surface and spread herself over it expertly to trap the heat with her body and wings.

_Eeeeya! Eeeeya! Eeeeeya! Eeeeya._

The alarm blared before the sun graced the horizon with grey. A toe turned off the heat as she got up and headed to take care of her hygiene.

One perk of being the Commission’s dog was the “assists” that were available, and thank the gods. No one was permitted to see what hid beneath her uniform. Not even her. Never, ever, would she permit that.

And machines don’t carry the judgement people do.

The automated bathroom disrobed her, washed her body, left her wings unwetted, blow dried her skin and dressed her. The machines never could do something like wing care, not that it was much of an issue. Her mother had been good to teach her how even with the deadly weapons at her anulas.

As she saw to her wings and feather maintenance, she hummed her mother’s song. For the time being, she was sharing the sunrise with white, long feathers belonging to wings that she would never be able to grow into. Always so soft, and always so warm. A comfort.

Then **they** ripped it away.

She imagined her mother’s apartment similar to her own. Of course, they weren’t permitted to see each other’s current dwellings much less team up outside of nationwide threats. Not even in her dreams could she get more than a brief glimpse of the other hero’s true feelings. She’d never be able to be engulfed in those beautiful wings again.

Her humming stopped.

And she also has the same fate. Being used to create new heroes before “all opportunity was lost” with someone she’d never share feelings with. Claiming sweet, private moments in a place that disallowed anything and everything that was personal; that was cherished. Watching them be torn apart and reconfigurated again and again and again. Then serving in the same sky without ever actually sharing it. Watching them go through it and their children and their children’s children while being discarded in old age or meeting her death in the field.

She didn’t want to watch that. 

But she also didn’t want to watch her mother succumb to some villain.

And where the hell did her father even end up.

_Bzzzd. Bzzzd. Bzzzd._

“A doctor from South Korea has been brought in to assist with the bonding’s quirk that went awry in Musutafu!”

The phone turned into earpiece kindly informed her from the counter.

“Soulmates... that was such a weird day.”

She continued readying herself and was out before the sun could fully bless the whole archipelago.

First things first was passing through the training module the Commission has for her that served as a workout routine, and an ever changing one at that.

An hour, fifteen minutes and thirty four seconds was what it took for her.

Beyond her still aching muscles, a Commission drone wrote notes with disapproving flicks of a hand.

He made no vocal attacks.

She was free to eat and continue on with the day and wait until the people required her services.

The headpiece gave an awful ringing sound as a new report and therefore mission came in.

“Deadly villain attack in Chiba. All pros converge.”

The message hadn’t even finished before she bolted for the destination. Being the fastest, she’d be the first one on site of pros from outside the area.


	2. Don't Think; Do!

Arriving and seeing the wreckage made her doubt it was a villain’s doing instead of the natural movement of tectonic plates that Japan was well acquainted with.

This would be one of the worst movements in a while.

Buildings were leveled, water was flooding in to places and alarms were blaring even on cars in the rubble.

She landed on a rooftop nearby to survey and check in with other pros already on the scene.

“Talon,” a melodic, deeper female voice spoke from behind her, “it’s not a quake, it’s work from what’s thought to be a group of villains.”

Her surprise was easily masked as she turned to acknowledge her mother.

“People are being evacuated, medics and EMTs have been moved in to take the wounded from the pros. Our duty is to assist in rescue by moving debris and freeing the injured.”

Talon nodded to Raptor. The much, much larger woman took the lead as they descended into the heart of it. Immediately called over by another pro, Raptor took her Harpy Eagle-like legs and lifted a large piece of cement with few flaps of her massive wings. Talon went in to cut the roof off of a sinking car full of people.

There was no room for thought. Not even adrenaline. Only for what they’d been made for, and the mother—daughter duo was excellent.

After hours through the rush, the situation was under some sort of control, the now exhausted pros took a small rest and the chance for a debriefing of further information while newly arriving professionals maintained the damage.

Standing on some less rubble—like rubble was water tanks and nutrition drinks, easy and fast, as well as some treats or other things grateful civilians offered up.

“Raptor, Talon, good work.” The head of police greeted the two as well as the other pros.

“What was once thought to be a small wanna be crime syndicate has shown itself to be more than that. We’re not yet sure what exactly they’re capable of nor are we entirely sure of their specific quirks, however, we do have suspicion that one is related to the infamous Blood Borne.”

“Vengeance,” was all Raptor had to say to share their like minded ideas.

The head of police nodded wearily.

“We think it has something to do with explosions although that still has yet to be confirmed, or otherwise destabilization of the foundations of the skyscrapers and subway tunnels. The civilians are of course the top priority, but we need these villains captured before any more casualties or celebritization of these people.”

There was an air among the heroes, a heavy shame and sadness.

Casualties.

There were already so many. Sore muscles and aching eyes and smoke induced coughing were so much less important than the lives of innocents.

Talon took in a breath and shifted. The water she had gulped down settled uneasily in her twisting gut.

The country’s hero system was a well oiled machine that arose from scraps and hammered itself into place.

There were no mistakes.

There was no such thing as failure.

People were still screaming and groaning in pain.

The first responders and rescue teams were exhausted.

The pros were running out of steam.

It was hardly past midday.

The sun beat down hard and reflected off of soot stained eyes.

Despite all effort, Talon’s wings slouched as she looked over the torn up asphalt and down into the newly created ravine.

Other heroes were still combing over the wreckage and crawling over cement and exposed rebar.

“Talon,” came her mother’s voice with all the conviction in the world, “are you ready?”

Like a switch that was waiting to be flipped, she was gone.

Gone down into the ravine.

Gone to reach the people in most need of help.

The air waves she made passing by nearly tipped a fire user pro carrying an injured civilian over. But there was a safe slab of metal to catch the both of them.

She passed even the most remote places to have been reached and squeezed into a small opening.

Activating a flashlight on her headpiece, she surveyed the area.

“Is anyone trapped, I’m here to help?”

It was a large empty space that she found herself in. She coughed against the dust and limited her wing movements. Her reddened grey eyes squinted against the reflecting dust particles.

“Hello?”

She ventured further into the area.

“Talon,” her headpiece fed right into her ear.

“I’m here. I don’t see anyone yet. I’m going further.”

A talon gingerly cut off the call with the push of a small button, and cut off the headlight as well.

She wished her reptile blood had had more of an impact than old scars and a need for heat.

“Hello! Can anyone hear me? I’m a hero; I’m here to help you!”

She was stuck as a shot-in-the-dark.

She clicked the phone button again.

“This is Talon, can anyone hear me-?”

“Yes, Talon, continue.”

“I’m in the recesses of what I believe is Turnip Tower. Entrance: small. Visibility: low. Air quality: low. I don’t detect any flooding where I am as of yet.” She moved forward slowly, checking in the quietest way possible that she had something to walk on so as to hear any gasped cries for help or pained groans.

She gave a cough against the dust then schooled her esophagus and lungs into submission.

“Noted. The sea in on top of you now, proceed with caution. Raptor and Scury are above you clearing away rubble. Capperton and sidekicks are surveying the waters. Everyone else is otherwise busy and unavailable to you.”

The midday sunlight was waning as she continued moving.

“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to take any survivors out the way I came in.”

“Noted, Scury will assist.”

“Noted.” The call audibly disconnected from the other end.

“Ah-!” Her foot went down more than it should have. Tensed and jittery wings stirred up yet more dust.

_Damnit, Talon, lock it away, lock it ALL away. Now is not about you!_

She swallowed against dust coating her mouth and throat.

“Hello? Call to me if you’re here! I can’t see in the dark.”

Her strained words echoed against ruined walls that seemed blessingly empty.

“Hello? I’m here. I will help you!”

Only an echo.

The surface she walked on changed yet again.

She vainly tried the light again.

Nothing but being blinded herself.

_This is a busy trade building, how is there no one-._

“Raptor, Scury, how many up there?”

“Ten and counting. Do you need assistance?”

“No, I haven’t found or heard anything from anyone.”

“Keep looking, but proceed with caution, you’re not built for that.”

“I know.”

A heavy tightness curled around her throat as she continued forward.

“Talon, _be careful_ ; with the flood waters and unknown cause, your way in could disappear.”

Her mother’s voice was accented by the excursion the other woman was no doubt in the middle of via moving rubble or debris or the injured.

She was safe and high.

Talon wasn’t.

“Hello!” She coughed against the dust.

Some piece of the building groaned from where it no doubt unceremoniously lay.

She wasn’t even through the main entrance and lobby yet, if she were to recall the building’s layout correctly.

How many floors?

_How many floors?_

_The max capacity?_

_The typical number of occupants in the early morning?_

“Hello?… Hello?…. I’m here to help you!… Hello! Is anyone here! Anyone injured?!”

Echoes.

And echoes.

And groaning rubble.

And silence.


End file.
